


bite

by thereisnoreality



Series: cherry bomb [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Alternate Universe - Idols, F/F, Responsibility, donghyuck is grown up, taeyong is confused, thats it thats the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:47:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22125853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thereisnoreality/pseuds/thereisnoreality
Summary: When did Donghyuck get this pretty? She’s always been cute, but in that adorable Bambi kind of way, with wide brown eyes and long limbs she never seemed to grow into. But now… These days she looks especially pretty.Grown up, Taeyong realises with a startling shock.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Lee Taeyong
Series: cherry bomb [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1592638
Comments: 24
Kudos: 241
Collections: BBBFest Debut Round: The Bittersweet Option





	bite

**Author's Note:**

> for bbb_fest!
> 
> \- post performance horniness  
> \- can't open up because of your leadership responsibilities
> 
> honestly i've been very very burnt out these past few days so when this came to me i didn't fight it and just threw it up here unedited and probably riddled with errors. i never thought i'd enjoy writing taeyong this much but this was weirdly fun. shoutout to yoon for yelling with me about the magnificence that is taehyuck

__

> _Kiss me on the mouth and set me free_
> 
> _Sing me like a choir_
> 
> _I can be the subject of your dreams_
> 
> _Your sickening desire_
> 
> _Don't you wanna see a man up close_
> 
> _A phoenix in the fire_
> 
> _So kiss me on the mouth and set me free_
> 
> _But please, don't bite_
> 
> __

The end of their first concert in Fukuoka hits Taeyong with a wave of exhaustion. She barely manages to totter off the stage, the straps of her too-tight heels digging into the back of her ankle in a way that’s so painful she doesn’t even feel it anymore. She knows it’s going to hurt like hell tomorrow when she has to put these same shoes on again and do another two hour performance, but that is for Tomorrow Taeyong to worry about. She leans against the wall, her back to the chaos that’s happening backstage, and tries not to dig her nails into wall as she leans her forehead against the cool wall, relishing the temperature change.

There’s a uncomfortable feeling pooling in her stomach, as it does after every high energy performance but Taeyong pushes it aside, ignores it firmly, before it can take root in her system. She doesn’t have the time, nor the energy, to deal with the almost Pavlov reaction her body has to being on stage every single time.

Yuta peers around the fringe of her hair, casting a concerned glance at her. “You okay?”

“I can’t feel my feet,” Taeyong rasps, peeling her forehead off the wall. There’s a streak of beige sweat from her foundatin on the black concrete and Taeyong considers it for a second, before swiping it away. She’s usually okay with her height - she’s _more_ than average when compared to most of the population - but it’s always infuriating when Johnny gets the nice, comfy flats, because otherwise the height distribution would look ridiculous - and Taeyong always gets thrust the highest, strappiest pair of heels to dance around in for a couple of hours. 

Yuta snorts. “You’re okay,” she says, offering Taeyong her arm so she can use her as balance - _so painfully_ \- on one foot to take off her heels. They pad through backstage, to the dressing rooms, Taeyong nearly crying from the relief of her bare feet touching the ground, to change and get bundled into the van back to the hotel. 

They end up badgering their manager into getting dinner elsewhere from the hotel and their manager just sighs, before murmuring something to the driver. 

“Are you getting to visit your parents this time?” Taeyong hears Doyoung ask Yuta as they pull out onto the highway, the city coming into view and the bright lights flashing through the van every two seconds. Johnny’s dozing in the seat next to her, her winter jacket slipping off where it was draped over her chest and Taeyong leans over to pull it back up, casting a surreptitious glance behind her as she does. They’ve split off into two vans this time and it’s just Doyoung and Yuta in the backseat. Yuta’s usually smiling face is carefully blank as she shakes her head, her hair slipping from it’s low ponytail. She makes no move to fix it. 

“We need to be back in Seoul as soon as the concert’s done… Apparently,” is all she offers in response and Taeyong catches a glimpse of Doyoung’s pursed lips, her eyes hard as she places a hand over Yuta’s wrist, long acrylic nails wrapping over ice blue veins for half a second before she pulls away. Anymore would be considered pity and there’s no place for that here - not now, now when they have so much work to do. So much more to prove. 

Taeyong sighs and twists back into her seat, tipping her head against the window, watching the city flash past her, in a dizzying circle of burnt orange lights and white glass windows - large black towers of buildings that loom out of the darkness all of a sudden before they’re gone, probably never to be seen by Taeyong’s eyes again. 

Her neck muscles are tight - _too_ tight - as is her back and shoulders and she’s probably going to have to spend at least half an hour rolling out her muscles tonight before she can get into bed and drift off into oblivion. The very thought of the act exhausts her further. 

The restaurant they end up at is a small little ramen place, with individual booths, large panels of wood between her and the next person, which Taeyong appreciates because she doesn’t think she can keep up a conversation tonight. 

She checks off a random dish on the menu before putting her head against one of the panels and closing her eyes until it comes, the smell wafting up to her and awakening her stomach which was apparently more hungry than she’d thought it was. The dish is a little too spicy, she must have checked off the wrong box, and her tongue burns, eyes filling with tears as her nose runs. It’s all very unflattering, she’s sure. Then she snorts - _Girl Group Leader Caught Crying In Ramen Restaurant! -_ she can just see the articles now. 

“Napkin?”

Taeyong looks up to see Jaehyun leaning back in her chair, holding out a bunch of napkins. 

“Thanks,” Taeyong mumbles, taking it from her. “What are you eating?” She leans forward to get a look and frowns when all she sees is just a couple of boiled eggs. “Is that _all_? Jaehyun-ah-”

“It’s fine, unnie,” Jaehyun dismisses before Taeyong can start scolding her. “I’m not that hungry right now.”

“We have to perform again tomorrow,” Taeyong tells her as sternly as she can but she must not be carrying the leader voice in her larynx right now because Jaehyun simply dimples at her, reaching up to brush her hair back under its snapback. 

“I’ll eat a really big breakfast tomorrow,” she promises. “If I have to go the gym tomorrow morning after eating this much, I’ll throw up.”

Taeyong thinks of the gym she’d glimpsed briefly through the stained windows in the hotel lobby before making her way up to her room. “Ugh,” she shudders. Getting up at five in the morning to work out? Certainly not meant for her. “I have a couple of pear drinks in my suitcase, come get them later,” she tells Jaehyun. “You’re not going to bed with just eggs for dinner.” 

“Yes unnie,” Jaehyun says obediently, but not without a small smirk directed at her before she ducks behind her panel. 

The hotel they’re staying at is quite upscale and they traipse back at peak dinner hours. Taeyong flushes a little because they all look a little ridiculous, makeup half removed, hair stiff with hairspray shoved in unflattering buns or under hats - _Taeil’s_ wearing sunglasses despite the fact that’s it’s nearing eleven at night and they’re _inside_ \- and they all get strange looks from the patrons milling about the lobby, all dressed up in flashing dresses and suits before they bundle into the elevators. 

“Bed immediately,” their manager orders, handing out their room cards. “We have to be back at the venue at nine tomorrow. If any of you come down to breakfast with circles under your eyes, we’re going to have a talk. And trust me, it will not be a talk you enjoy.” Taeyong nods obediently at him, subtly kicking Doyoung in the shin as she makes a face at the floor. She doesn’t like this manager - none of them do, really - he only accompanies them when they’re in Japan, because their usual manager, Yoora, for all her expertise, can’t speak Japanese at all and she usually hangs back in Seoul unless it’s a long trip.

“What room is Donghyuck in?” Mark pipes up from the back of the elevator and Taeyong gets a miniature shock. She’d forgotten about Donghyuck completely in the last couple of hours. Donghyuck who’d collapsed during rehearsal today and had been carted off to the nearest hospital only to be told in no uncertain terms by the stern elderly doctor that had seen her that she was absolutely _not_ allowed to perform tonight. 

“I can do it,” Donghyuck had protested up at Taeyong from the hospital bed. They’d been in the examination room and Taeyong had been the only member to accompany her, mostly because she’d put her foot down when their manager tried to make her stay behind. “Unnie, I can perform.”

Taeyong had torn her eyes away from the poster describing the symptoms of a heart attack for both men and women to stare at Donghyuck for a second before her words had filtered through. “No,” she’d said flatly and when Donghyuck had opened her mouth to argue, Taeyong had shot her a look. “You collapsed in exhaustion, Donghyuck. You’re not doing anything other than going back to the hotel and sleeping or so _help me-_ ”

“What?” Donghyuck had asked belligerently, scrunching her nose up at her. Taeyong had always silently adored Donghyuck’s nose - it was small without being comical and cute without being childish. “What will you do, unnie? You can’t make me stay here.”

“Yes I can,” Taeyong had snapped, unfamiliar anger flaring up in her before she’d stopped herself. Donghyuck was always so hard to deal with when she wanted to be difficult. Taeyong hadn’t signed up to be a mom to two _kids_ and seven other kids who thought they were adults and thus didn’t need any help at the mere age of twenty four. She’d closed her eyes and placed her fingers on the pleather bed for balance, feeling the material sink beneath her touch. When she opened her eyes, Donghyuck was watching her, eyes unmoving, her chest hitching in tiny breaths. Her fingers are clenched in the paper sheet she’s sitting on and Taeyong feels a wave of sympathy and hurt and anger on Donghyuck’s and her _own_ behalf. What a shitty situation they were in. What a life they had chose. 

“Donghyuck, please,” she’d said again, unable to keep the exhaustion out of her voice. Going by the way Donghyuck’s lips twist, she’d noticed it. “Rest today, and if you’re well enough tomorrow, I’ll talk to the manager about you performing. But today, just _please_ take a break. I don’t want you to get hurt again.”

Sometimes, when Taeyong is a particularly self flagellant mood, she’ll think about the moment Donghyuck had fractured her leg in practice. She can remember the way she’d looked up in the mirror at the exact time Donghyuck had fallen, her eyes widening for a second, shock in her expression before it had crumpled into pain, bursting into tears before she’d even hit the ground. She remembers the way Donghyuck’s nails had dug into her arm as Taeyong had helped her down to the car, Johnny on her other side, the way Donghyuck had buried her face in Taeyong’s chest, seeking Taeyong’s touch in a way she rarely ever did, looking smaller than ever. Looking just as young as she’d been when Taeyong had first seen her in the company, thirteen years old, with a big smile and a louder laugh, curly black hair dripping all over her eyes and face. 

Taeyong knows objectively that nothing she could have done would have probably stopped Donghyuck getting hurt. But she can’t help blaming herself anyway.

Self reproach is, after all, her bread and butter. 

“Fine,” Donghyuck had said finally, her tone tight and angry. But Taeyong doesn’t bother with it, too concerned with arguing with their manager until it was confirmed that Donghyuck _would_ be sitting out tonight. 

“She keeps getting hurt,” the manager had sighed irritably, when he’d given in, casting an annoyed look at the closed door to Donghyuck’s room before turning away. “I’ll go check her out.” 

_She keeps getting hurt because of you. Because of all you_ Taeyong had thought angrily but she didn’t say it. 

It wouldn’t do her or Donghyuck any good.

Taeyong knocks on Donghyuck’s door, waiting for the called assent before she slides the card she’d taken from their manager and opening the door. Taeyong had forced Donghyuck into the solo room she’d gotten, choosing to room with Taeil for the night and the look Donghyuck had given her when she’d informed her of the news flashes in her mind now when Donghyuck looks up from the bed. 

“Concert over?” Donghyuck asks, sitting up in the bed. She mutes the TV as Taeyong nears the bed, sinking down on it without waiting for invitation and leaning her head against Donghyuck’s inclined legs. The TV is playing some random action movie but Donghyuck is clearly not watching, given her phone screen, which is tilted in Taeyong’s direction, showing the Dream group chat, texts flying by at lightning speed. 

“Mmm.”

“How was it?”

“Good,” Taeyon says by rote. In truth, it could have gotten better. There was a problem with the stage changes and Doyoung’s voice was about to give out on her halfway through the concert. Besides, without Sicheng, Jungwoo or Donghyuck, the stage had felt woefully empty. 

“Was it really?” There’s a note in Donghyuck’s voice that makes Taeyong look up at her. 

“What do you mean?” She asks, just barely finding it in herself to get up and fall onto the bed on the other side of Donghyuck so she can lie more comfortably.

There’s a pause, where Donghyuck worries at her lower lip, considering Taeyong through her lashes before her hand drops down to carefully brush Taeyong’s bangs out of her eyes. Taeyong blinks in shock because she doesn’t expect it. Not from Donghyuck. Donghyuck only appreciates affection from certain people and only on _her_ terms. She never willingly seeks out Taeyong, not like she does Taeil or Mark. 

Donghyuck is warm but not to Taeyong. To Taeyong she is cordial and annoying and bratty and childlike but she is never _this_ nice. 

“You know you can tell me things, right unnie? Like the hard stuff,” Donghyuck says, as if she’s on a streak to keep shocking Taeyong every other minute tonight. “I don’t know how much I can help, but I can try.”

Taeyong stares up at her. She blurts, “Nothing bothers me.”

Lie.

Donghyuck snorts. “Please unnie,” she says almost indulgently as if Taeyong is a child she’s humouring. Taeyong feels faintly as if she’s on fire. Especially with Donghyuck’s fingers running through her hair as they are. “You don’t have a very quiet voice, you know. I heard you arguing with manager oppa today to get me bed rest.”

Taeyong purses her lips. “Are you going to yell at me again for that?” She asks warily because honestly, she’s just very tired and doesn’t think she can handle another round with Donghyuck. Not right now. Maybe not ever. 

Taeyong’s life may be exhausting but nothing tires her out more than a hostile Donghyuck. 

“No,” Donghyuck says and there’s a look of contrition on her face. “I’m sorry for that, unnie. You were just trying to help me. I really did need a break.”

“I’m always trying to help you,” Taeyong murmurs, burying her face in the cool sheets. She’s grateful she had the foresight to stop by her room and wash her face and hair before she’d come to check on Donghyuck because she honestly might just fall asleep here. 

“I know.”

And then Taeyong’s eyes fly open in shock for the _second_ time that night because Donghyuck’s lips have just brushed the top of her cheek. When she looks up, Donghyuck hasn’t moved away, is just hovering above her, eyes wide and watchful. “What - what was that for?” Taeyong asks, clearing her throat when her voice catches. 

Donghyuck shrugs. In that movement, the blanket she’d been buried in falls down her arm and Taeyong realises Donghyuck’s just wearing a tank top, the slim straps drooping down over the bronze arch of her shoulder. Her breath stutters. 

“I just want to thank you, unnie. For today.”

Taeyong stares at her. Donghyuck stares back. Her eyelashes are so long. 

When did Donghyuck get this pretty? She’s always been cute, but in that adorable Bambi kind of way, with wide brown eyes and long limbs she never seemed to grow into. But now… These days she looks especially pretty.

Grown up, Taeyong realises with a startling shock. 

“If you want to thank me, give me a back massage.” 

There’s a beat and it takes Taeyong a minute before she realises those words have come from her. She flushes, opens her mouth to protest but Donghyuck blinks at her for a second before she nods. 

“‘Kay. Turn around, unnie.”

“Wait, no,” Tayeong panics because oh god, Donghyuck’s _hands_ on her. She did not think this through. “I didn’t mean-”

But Donghyuck’s fingers wrap around her shoulder and push her into the mattress before she can say anymore. The blanket gets pushed down and Taeyong can barely stifle the noise that slips through her lips when she feels Donghyuck straddle her thighs. 

“Where does it hurt?” Donghyuck asks, helping Taeyong pull her shirt off. Taeyong just thanks her lucky stars that she hadn’t taken her bra off yet before she’d come in. Donghyuck’s fingers trace a path of fire over her skin and Taeyong tries not to shiver. “Shoulders?”

“You don’t have to do this,” Taeyong says picking her neck up and wincing immediately because _fuck_ , she’s so stiff and this position isn’t doing her any favours. “Hyuckie, I wasn’t serious-” 

“Everyone loves massages,” Donghyuck says firmly. “And I’ve slept a long time today, I have too much energy, so just lie there and let me help you, unnie.”

_Oh god, why did she have to word it like that?_

Taeyong buries her face in her arms. “My neck all the way down to my back,” she says, muffled, cheeks flaring red when she hears the top of something being popped off.

Donghyuck’s grin is audible. “Okay, unnie.” Her hands, warm and smooth with something - probably lotion - come to rest on her shoulderblades. Her fingers dig in just briefly before they move up to her neck. “Just relax and let your dongsaeng do the work.”

Taeyong breaks out into goosebumps. 

Donghyuck’s absurdly good at this. 

At first, Taeyong tries muffling her gasps in the sheets, but Donghyuck’s fingers are hard and skillful, pressing and prodding at every tender knot in her neck and soon, Taeyong just melts and lets the noises go. 

That feeling comes back. The one she always gets when she finishes a performance; a honey smooth drip pooling into the bottom of her stomach, her throat going dry and her thighs twitching together. 

Usually Taeyong deals with it by ignoring it until it goes away. Other times, she locks herself in the bathroom and lets the shower run as she runs her fingers in tiny, tight circles, not playing with herself, not bothering to make it feel nice. Just dirty and quick, building herself up until she shudders, her orgasm making her slump against the wall, her free fist pressed into her mouth to muffle any noises, before she’s redressing, washing her hands and walking back outside to deal with whatever new shit the company have decided to throw at her in those few minutes of isolation and solace. 

But now, she can’t do either of those things. Donghyuck’s sitting _atop_ her for god’s sake, and her fingers are pressing into Taeyong’s spine, rubbing every which way and _fuck-_

“You okay, unnie?” Donghyuck leans down, her hair brushing the back of Taeyong’s shoulder as she breathes into Taeyong’s ear. She sounds concerned, soft, her fingers smoothing over Taeyong’s back “You’re twitching a lot. Am I hurting you?”

Oh _god_. 

“It’s fine,” Taeyong whispers, her voice cracking. She clears her throat again. “You can stop now, you know, it’s okay.”

Donghyuck shifts and then _thankfully_ , she’s sliding off Taeyong, sitting by Taeyong’s side, and leaning down to peer at her face. Taeyong feels like rubber all over when she turns over, gasping. Her muscles feel stretched out and are faintly aching but that good kind of ache, the kind that comes with late night practices when you finally fall into bed after nailing a dance. The kind that comes with a fucking amazing massage. 

“Are you okay, unnie?” Donghyuck says again, eyes wide, her lips parted in concern, leaning forward, her hand landing on Taeyong’s bare waist and Taeyong twitches. The heat is pooling in her stomach, harder again, more insistent. 

“Fine,” Taeyong gasps, making to sit up, but before she can even try, Donghyuck’s hand slides up, passing over her stomach, ghosting over her bra before coming to a rest on her shoulder. “Hyuck,” Taeyong tries because she’s getting wet, just from _this_ and it’s so unfair and also so embarrassing and she has to leave-

“You know,” Donghyuck interrupts, voice honey smooth and Taeyong’s eyes flash up to meet hers. Donghyuck’s gaze is faintly amused. “If you wanted me to help you out in _this_ unnie, all you had to was _ask_.” Her hand smooths over Taeyong’s stomach again and Taeyong stares. 

“What do you mean-” She starts, hardly daring to think about _what_ Donghyuck means. 

“Oh, honestly, unnie.” Donghyuck rolls her eyes, and tosses her hair back before she’s leaning down and kissing Taeyong. 

Taeyong gasps, too loud, too desperate, before her hand comes up to wrap around the back of Donghyuck’s neck, pulling her closer. Donghyuck makes a pleased noise and then she’s straddling Taeyong again, leaning down to kiss her harder. It’s all too much, too hot, too fast and Taeyong can’t think- can’t breathe. Fuck, what is she doing?

She wrenches herself back and nearly whimpers when Donghyuck tries to chase her, lips slick and glossy with Taeyong’s - with _their_ \- spit. “What are we doing?” Taeyong gasps. “Hyuck-”

“We’re kissing,” Donghyuck tells her firmly, breathlessly. Her chest heaves and before Taeyong can stop, she’s glancing down at the frankly fantastic view right under her chin. “And then, I’m going make you come on my fingers, unnie. And after that, you’re going to get some sleep. Is that okay with you?” 

Taeyong stares up at her. She’s never felt so confused in her life - because oh god, this is Donghyuck, this is her baby, her little _maknae_ \- but she’s also hopelessly turned on and that’s why she breathes a soft, “Yeah. That’s fine.”

Donghyuck’s firm expression melts into something mischievous and alluring. “Good,” she hums, a hand coming up to cup Taeyong’s breast, thumb brushing over the nipple until it stiffens and Taeyong’s just barely holding back a groan, her hips twitching up against Donghyuck’s. 

Donghyuck doesn’t stop kissing her. Not when she’s grinding her hips down against Taeyong’s in the most distracting way possible. Not when she’s licking her way down Taeyong’s chest, leaving hickies that Taeyong’s going to have to figure out how to cover up tomorrow because half of her concert outfits are hilariously tiny. 

Not even when she’s got two fingers buried in Taeyong, her thumb flicking against Taeyong’s clit maddeningly, until Taeyong’s fit to go insane. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she chants, hands clenching the sheets, moving restlessly across Donghyuck’s body, curling in her hair. “Fuck, how are you so _good_ at this?”

Donghyuck’s smile is a bite in the dark. A dangerous kiss pressed to the curve of a throat. A whispered secret everyone can hear. “I’ve had a lot of practice,” she tells Taeyong, moving back up to kiss her, tongue sliding against Taeyong’s, teeth sinking into Taeyong’s lower lip.

“Practice?” Taeyong repeats, almost mindless. Donghyuck’s fingers are tracing tighter and faster circles, building Taeyong up, up, up. “Where did you-”

“I’m not a child anymore, unnie,” Donghyuck whispers against her lips. Her eyes are dark, dark dark. Taeyong thinks she’s about to drown in them. “Haven’t been for a while.” Her lips press against Taeyong’s when she comes, helplessly, with a loud, broken cry, swallowing all the sounds almost greedily. Holding Taeyong as she falls apart in her hands. 

If Taeyong felt like rubber after the massage, it’s nothing compared to the way her limbs feel now, post orgasm, sinking into the mattress, mind floating away. 

Donghyuck shifts, as if to get off and with surprising energy, Taeyong grabs her wrist.

“Where are you going?” She murmurs. 

“Just to clean up,” Donghyuck tells her and there’s a note of fondness in her voice that Taeyong lets wrap around her like a second blanket. “I’ll be right back, unnie.” 

“Mmm.” Taeyong lets her go, fighting sleep until Donghyuck’s sliding back into the sheets beside her. She turns and buries her face into Donghyuck’s neck. A thought occurs to her and she frowns. “You didn’t - I didn’t help you.”

Donghyuck laughs. “It’s fine unnie. Just sleep.”

“Tomorrow morning,” Taeyong tells her, trying to sound firm. “Tomorrow… okay?”

“Tomorrow huh?” Donghyuck asks. “So you won’t be ignoring me and pretending this didn’t happen tomorrow?” 

Taeyong doesn’t answer, she’s already asleep. 

Though that’s probably a good thing. She’s not sure what her answer would have been if she’d been awake. 

**Author's Note:**

> this is the precursor to the longer, more gay sequel i had originally written for this universe, hopefully i'll finish that one soon. let me know your thoughts!
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/_donghyuck_)  
> [cc](https://curiouscat.me/thereisnoreality)


End file.
